


Ostara

by crimsonherbarium



Series: Wheel of the Year [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Freya - Freeform, M/M, Massage, Ostara, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Skellige - Freeform, Slash, Wheel of the Year, wound care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-07 05:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17954291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonherbarium/pseuds/crimsonherbarium
Summary: Lambert, stubborn as always, tries to avoid dealing with consequences after taking a hit on their last contract. Aiden isn't having it.





	Ostara

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by [raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy), who is my amazing smutty role model.

Lambert tried to roll his shoulder and grimaced, clutching at the wound that was torn through the meat of his upper back with his other hand. Aiden moved to sit beside him on the straw mattress and looked at him reproachfully.

“ _Now_ will you let me dress it?”

“It’ll heal,” Lambert said gruffly.

“Yes, it’ll heal. It’ll heal into a knotted mess of scar tissue, and the damage to the muscle is going to limit how well you can use your sword arm.” Aiden sighed in exasperation. “Potions can only do so much, you know.”

“What, and your magic herbs are going to do better? Last time I drank a batch of Thunderbolt you brewed I was seeing double for a day and a half.”

Aiden puffed up indignantly. “Slights against my alchemical prowess notwithstanding—we were lucky the Priestesses of Freya let us set foot anywhere near their goddess’s garden after what Geralt and Yennefer did. They’re not exactly fond of witchers.”

“That’s not my problem.” Lambert shrugged, and then winced as his shoulder screamed in complaint.

Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, Aiden groaned. “Just let me dress the damn wound. Your stubbornness is going to be the death of you one day.”

“Fine,” Lambert growled. “But if you poison me again, I swear—”

“It’s not going to happen. Now will you please just take off your armor and lie down?”

Lambert begrudgingly complied. Really, Aiden was making a fuss over nothing. It was hardly the first time he’d been wounded on a contract. The scars that twisted and marred his skin as he shed his gambeson were testament to that. It was only a claw mark—a deep one, even he couldn’t deny that—but he’d certainly had worse. The Swallow he’d drunk had replaced most of the blood he’d lost, and the rich rabbit stew the elderly innkeep had cooked for dinner that night had restored him the rest of the way. The flesh would knit with time.

He laid down on his stomach on the bed, staring resolutely forward at the rough wooden walls of their rented room. An inn was a luxury, to be sure, but for once it was one they could afford. The contract had paid well, and the gold alone was enough to make the damage to his shoulder worth it.

Aiden returned with a shallow basin of water and some rags, a thick roll of cotton bandages, and a jar of salve he’d made from the budding herbs he’d harvested under Freya’s sacred light. The jar glowed dully, the magic infused in the plants made shining through the glass.

Lambert hissed as Aiden pressed a wet rag to the wound, trying to loosen up the congealed blood and dirt around its edges. The water from the basin was unexpectedly cold, though it shouldn’t have surprised him; warm water for bathing wasn’t a luxury Skelligans usually partook of. They were steeped in the deadening chill of the furious sea. Cold wasn’t something they seemed to be aware of.

Aiden was exceedingly gentle as he washed the grime from the ragged edges of the wound, his touch light on Lambert’s skin. That didn’t stop it from hurting like hell as he did it, though. Lambert was no stranger to pain, and he’d certainly felt worse, but it was irritating. Usually he had the option of running his sword through whatever had caused the pain in the first place. This time he didn’t have that option. He gritted his teeth and made an effort to hold still, breathing an audible sigh of relief when Aiden finally put the rag back into the basin of icy water that was now stained red with blood and set it on the floor.

The reprieve was short. Aiden’s fingers were back, dipping into the jar of Freya’s herbs and smoothing salve over the cut. The pain immediately dulled as the scent of lemon balm filled Lambert’s nostrils. Aiden hummed to himself softly, pulling the ragged edges of the wound together and holding them there. He wound a roll of soft white cotton tightly around Lambert’s shoulder. The fabric of the bandage limited the motion of his shoulder, but when the work was done, Lambert could move it with only a slight twinge of protest from the torn flesh. By morning, it would have knit sufficiently for him to fight unhindered.

“That should minimize the scarring, at least,” Aiden said, smoothing his hands over the muscles of Lambert’s back.

Against his better judgment, Lambert sighed and melted into the contact. He could almost hear the smile on Aiden’s face as he responded in kind, his hands pressing softly into Lambert’s back as he massaged away the stress of the past few days. The last few years, more like. Things hadn’t exactly been easy.

Still, it felt wonderful. Aiden’s hands worked their way down from his shoulders to his hips, occasionally pausing to press deeply where they found a knot. Lambert hummed in appreciation as they roamed lower, caressing the curve of his ass.

Aiden’s lips on the back of his neck were unexpected but not unwelcome. Lambert’s shocked intake of air was apparently the desired response, as the other man kissed his way down the side of his neck and his back.

Lambert had found over the years that his body responded to Aiden in ways that it didn’t to anyone else. The other man knew him too well, knew all the places and ways he loved to be touched and exploited them to his full advantage. A single kiss from him was often enough to leave him hard and wanting, depending on how it was delivered. This was no exception.

He found he could no longer tolerate lying face down on the bed, Aiden’s lips traversing every inch of his skin. Lambert rolled over, ignoring the stiffness of his bandaged arm, and seized Aiden by the hair, dragging him down into a passionate kiss.

He never felt so content as he did when he was close to Aiden. It was as if all the tension left his body when it was just the two of them, touching each other this way. He could almost forget about witchers, and monsters, and the light snow that was still falling outside despite the shoots of crocuses and narcissus poking up through the dark earth, and the bag of gold on the dresser that was already considerably lighter than he would have preferred. There was only him, and his body, and the man he loved, who was focused on slowly and thoroughly taking him apart. Aiden’s tongue swirled over his and he moaned in response.

The fact that Lambert had already been divested of his armor made it very obvious how much he wanted this. His cock strained against his trousers. Aiden’s hands found their way to the ties and undid them, a smirk on his face as he tugged the leggings down Lambert’s hips and tossed them aside.

“S’not exactly fair,” Lambert complained, sitting up on his elbows. “You’re still wearing all your clothes.”

Aiden knelt between Lambert’s knees and nipped at the sensitive flesh of his thigh. “Life isn’t fair, Lambert.”

Lambert’s retort died in his throat as Aiden’s hand wrapped around his aching cock. Aiden smiled, kissing his way up Lambert’s thigh agonizingly slowly. Lambert gritted his teeth and tried not to breathe an audible sigh of relief when Aiden finally stopped teasing him and pressed his lips to the base of his cock. He worked his way upward, swirling his tongue around the tip as he looked into Lambert’s eyes like he wanted to eat him alive.

Lambert growled somewhere deep in his throat. He couldn’t help but rut upward, desperate for any friction he could find. Aiden’s other hand planted on his hip and pressed him firmly down against the mattress. Still maintaining eye contact, Aiden dipped his head and swallowed Lambert to the root.

“Fuck,” Lambert gasped, bucking against Aiden’s grip. 

It was too good. The warmth of the other man’s mouth. The way he looked on his knees. The way he used his tongue, massaging Lambert’s cock in all the right places as he sucked and dipped his head again. He tangled his hand in Aiden’s hair, making a fist in his chestnut curls. The other man let out a low moan against his cock that sent shivers through Lambert’s entire body. He lost himself in the motion of their joined bodies, in the warmth of Aiden against his skin, in the smolder of those honey-gold eyes flicking up at him through the fringe of Aiden’s eyelashes.

Lambert could feel himself flushed hot, his face a burning red that had spread down his chest. Aiden’s complexion had grown rosy to match, the scars on his neck a pale silver against his sex-blushed skin where they vanished under the neck of his shirt. Lambert thrust up into his mouth, and this time Aiden didn’t stop him from moving. He matched Lambert’s speed, doing things with his tongue that made Lambert gasp and struggle to keep his rhythm.

His pace faltered fast, his hips stuttering as he arched upward, struggling for that last bit of friction he needed to put him over the edge. His actions were instinctual, desperate—his body drawn tight, tension and heat thrumming through him as Aiden took him apart—

Aiden pulled back, making eye contact with Lambert, and swallowed him.

“Shi—” Lambert bucked up against him, pleasure shooting through him as he spasmed under Aiden’s touch. He held onto Aiden’s hair for dear life, no longer in conscious control of his body. Aiden hummed against him, swallowing the hot spurts of Lambert’s cum without ever losing his rhythm. He didn’t stop until the last of the aftershocks had shuddered through Lambert’s body and he collapsed backward onto the bed, staring dazed up at the ceiling.

“See?” Aiden said, wiping his mouth as he got up off his knees and settled down on the bed beside Lambert. “Good things happen when you let me take care of you.”

Lambert groaned noncommittally, already half-lost in a fog of sleep. He held out an arm without opening his eyes, and Aiden settled in against his chest.

As sleep rose up to overtake him, Lambert was filled with the sense that, for the first time in a long time, he felt safe.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second installment of my smutty Wheel of the Year series, which follows Lambert and Aiden through a year of their travels together. This one is a bit shorter than the last, but I hope you enjoyed it just the same. If you liked it, please consider leaving me a comment. I'd love to hear from you <3
> 
> [Next fic coming May 1(Beltane)]


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